


worth the risk

by AnnaofAza



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Established Keith/Shiro (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Season/Series 08, Secret Relationship, background Allura/Lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:55:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23267341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaofAza/pseuds/AnnaofAza
Summary: Allura's ready to take the fight to Honerva by using herself as an asset. Lance disagrees.It hits a few chords with Shiro.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 67





	worth the risk

**Author's Note:**

> A Twitter fic thread I decided to put up here, based on this brief Shiro/Keith exchange from S8:
> 
> "We think this is worth the risk." "I spent a lot of time in the infinite void. It took all of my strength not to lose my sanity. And if you face Honerva in that void, she will win."
> 
> This could have been an emotional crux. There wasn't. So I wrote it.

During the last few minutes of the briefing, it’s clear Lance is still wary about Allura using herself as a conduit to chase down Honerva. Despite her gentle reassurance, he keeps sneaking glances at her, as if he’s afraid she’ll vanish from his sight any moment, especially since Shiro's words are surely still ringing in everyone's heads: If _you face Honerva in that void, she will win._ Allura keeps talking, further outlining her plan, but Keith can sense an incoming conversation after this is over.

Sure enough, after everyone files out, Lance sits down hard in his chair, hands folding over his face, and Allura immediately places a comforting hand on his arm. As she bends over, lips ghosting against his ear, Keith decides to give them a moment of privacy, closing the door behind him as quietly as possible.

Shiro's waiting for him outside, hands clasped tightly behind his back. “Walk with me?” he asks.

Keith looks around. The hall’s empty, but they’ve learned after a particularly close call with Kinkade and Rizavi’s impromptu documentary that appearances could be deceiving. (“And,” Shiro added later, “sound carries.”)

“Admiral Shirogane, of course,” Keith says. “I wish to be useful to everyone on this ship.”

But his playful formality, which normally inspires a secret smile and dialogue more fit for a British Regency-era sketch, doesn't so much as make Shiro's mouth twitch, and Keith knows it's serious.

They walk in silence, mindfully a few inches apart, eyes locked straight ahead and shoulders regulation-straight. Soon, Shiro takes a hold of the hem of Keith’s jacket sleeve and pulls him through a doorway.

Atlas devised a clever way for them to meet without suspicion; Shiro's quarters were connected by a doorway that led to Keith's if he telegraphed his wish to the ship. Still, anyone with eyes could see hints of domesticity—Keith’s jacket thrown over a chair, a stray tablet on the nightstand, two pairs of boots under a coffee table.

Keith makes a note to clean those up; rarely anyone showed up to Shiro’s quarters—they left that for the office Atlas designed for Shiro for “work-life balance,” obliging Keith's coaxing—but discretion was always key.

He goes to sit on Shiro’s bed. It’s neatly-made, with hospital corners and the pillows fluffed. There's no evidence of their morning romp, with a small window open for them to see the passing pink-purple nebulas like an early-morning sunrise; they scarcely had a few minutes to enjoy the afterglow before a summons to yet another strategy meeting arrived.

"Talk to me," Keith says.

"This plan," Shiro begins. "Lance is right. We don't know what we're up against. You're the strongest person I know, Keith, but..."

Keith remembers the mention of the void; Shiro still wakes up and grabs onto the first physical object he can touch. Shiro almost never talks about his time there, but he now has a profound dislike of silence and stillness; soft music or newsfeed audio play in the background while they're working on paperwork now, with Shiro tapping his stylus in rhythmic uneasiness.

After all this time, it's ironic that Shiro's now the one who can't seem to be still, but it's far from a topic to joke about. Keith's the one who insists on breaking meetings for recesses more than the Garrison likes; otherwise, there's more of a chance Shiro wakes up in panic and confusion, sometimes shouting so loudly that Keith's afraid someone will discover them.

Shiro hides this, afraid of someone wrestling control for Atlas, for the paladins' safety, for another fragment of his life.

And Keith can't blame him.

Still, he tries to focus on the matter at hand. "I'll be fine." He pulls Shiro down beside him, squeezing his hand. "We all will. Allura knows what she's doing."

Shiro sighs. "I know. But I understand how Lance feels. He doesn't want to lose Allura."

Keith squeezes his hand again. "You won't lose me."

"I can't know that. Keith, you've lost me several times, and if I...I'm not strong enough. I know I'm not." Shiro shakes his head. "When I saw your lion falling, when I opened the pod—” Shiro's breath shudders before he can go on: "Keith, I've lost everything, but I...I won’t let you go alone." His grip's intense now, almost painful. "Promise me, Keith, you won’t go alone.”

“I won’t,” Keith says soothingly. “I have the paladins.”

Immediately, he regrets saying that. They haven’t talked about it, like many things, but Keith knows Shiro misses being a paladin, hates being boomeranged back to Garrison bureaucracy. No one really _knows_ Shiro anymore, not that they knew him very well before Kerberos, and either out of a guilt-induced olive branch or a coping mechanism to make things seem normal again, they've tried reinstating him as the Garrison's golden boy again. Shiro's the youngest captain in Garrison history, yet it's nothing compared to being a part of a mind-linked team. ( _And_ , Keith remembers Shiro confessing the night before Atlas's liftoff, _away from you._ )

But Shiro takes a different tactic: “You went alone to find Zethrid.”

Keith winces. “I did.” There’s really nothing he can say; he knows it was stupid, and he'd been properly chastened when he'd woken up by the paladins, by his mom, even by Veronica. ( _You're not being careful_ , Shiro had lamented, face buried in Keith's shoulder.)

“I won’t do it again,” he says. “But in this situation, maybe we can team up—talk to Allura and Lance separately.”

Shiro smiles bitterly. “I have a feeling either would think I don’t understand. Besides, I’m so removed now…”

Keith closes his eyes and leans against Shiro. “Fuck ‘em.” At Shiro’s raised eyebrows, he quickly amends, “Not the paladins, or Lance. I mean…all the protocols, the Garrison, everything. You matter to me. I don’t want to pretend like you don’t. And after all of this, well, we’ll be heroes. We’ll have something to bargain with.”

To Keith's relief, Shiro smiles. "I guess we will. Lance might get his parade."

Keith lightly nudges him. "That's the spirit."

 _We can go on a galaxy-wide road trip,_ he thinks. _We can race hoverbikes. We can watch another Earth sunset. We can go on Blade relief missions, explore planets we never got to see, stay in the shack for a week and eat nothing but pasta._

"For now, let me touch you." Shiro's voice is soft, and his hand slides under Keith's jacket. "Please."

Shiro kisses like a nymphomaniac who's on death row, as if he'll be dragged through that door any moment—and this time, it's no different.

In this war, in this time, it seems like such a small, harmless thing, to carve out a space for the two of them, so Keith gives himself to Shiro, wholeheartedly and faithfully. One day, they won't have to worry about ruffling feathers or power grabs or meaningless statuses.

Until then, they only have each other, and as Shiro sighs beneath him, Keith hopes he's right, that there is a future for all of them.


End file.
